Just Look How Far We've Come- A Phanfic
by SmolPuffPastry
Summary: WIP- still developing plot It was fate that Dan and Phil met so many years ago. Two dorky sporks somehow managed to change the world for the better, all because an awkward college kid stalked his Youtube idol on twitter. Flash forward and they're living together, but aren't ready to share the non-platonic parts of their relationship with the internet. This is the story of the m


"Time for a fringe check." I smoothed my hands through my silky black hair, turning my head and glancing in the mirror to make sure it was smooth on all sides. Satisfied with the placement, I smiled weakly at my reflection. My blue eyes were rimmed with dark circles, a side effect from months of being on tour. Travelling to America was fun; and I really enjoyed trying all the exciting food and getting to visit a new town each night. And although I love my subscribers, putting on the same show every day can be a bit taxing, and after a while all of the screaming and general craziness of the public started to wear on me. I had a fantastic time, but I was home now. Home...

The smell of spices and pork wafted by me, catching my attention. Mmm, Dan must be making Indian food tonight, I thought to myself. Slowly, I turned the corner and pushed open the glass doors that led into the kitchen. Sure enough, there he was: a tall figure dressed in a black T-shirt and skinny jeans armed with a frying pan and a wooden spoon.

"Whatcha makin'?" I asked, craning my neck to peer inside the pan.

"Chicken curry mixed in with some potatoes," Dan answered, keeping his focus on the food. He didn't cook much, I usually get entrusted with all of the kitchen duties, so long as he tidies up every now and then. But man, could he make good Indian food.

"It smells delicious," I observed aloud, leaning against the counter.

"It's almost done," Dan responded, "so you can go ahead and get the plates out for us." I opened the cabinet and selected two matching plates,along with a rubix cube mug and another decorated with a Kanye West pun. Closing the cabinet, I withdrew two forks from the drawer. Dan carried the pan over and spooned a portion onto each plate, while I placed a chamomile tea bag and poured hot water into each mug. "Living room?" He asked. I nodded, and with that we picked up our food and walked into the lounge, placing it onto the coffee table. Dan resumed his usual spot on the couch and I reclined next to him, scooping the plate onto my lap. I flipped on a new episode of Food Wars on the telly, and we watched and ate in silence.

It was nice to be back home. As Youtubers, Dan and I have gotten to do pretty amazing things. From meeting celebrities to voicing characters in a movie to going on tour, sometimes everyday London life could get pretty dull. But being away from the flat for so long, I was starting to appreciate the simplicity of it all, enjoying the way Dan was lazily slouched on the sofa and the relaxing atmosphere of watching the telly and eating Indian food. It wasn't until now that I realized how much I've missed this, just doing completely ordinary things with Dan. I briefly wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

Not a long time had passed when we cleaned our plates, our bellies full with Dan's cuisine.

"Well Phil, looks like you have to be the one to carry our dishes to the sink," Dan instructed, "I cooked the food so it's only fair."

"But that means I have to get up!" He only nodded, sarcastic sympathy evident in his features. "Daaan, I'm comfortable. I don't want to!"

"Phil, I'm already in my Tumblr browsing position."

"You haven't even got your laptop on you, it doesn't count!" I retorted. Dan chuckled, light and breathy, playfully shoving my arm.

"C'mon, Phil. Please?" I shook my head, laziness and exhaustion fueling my ability to be stubborn.

"Alright then, have it your way." Dan shifted over to my side of the couch, then swiftly gave my shoulders a firm push. Flailing, I rolled off my seat and onto the floor. "Well then, seeing as you're not so comfortable, would you kindly take our dishes back?" I watched Dan's face fade into a cheeky grin.

When Dan smiles, he doesn't ever just smile. With him, it's never just a quick thing that happens and is over with, just like that. Dan's amusement is an experience, a transition, like watching a sunrise or waiting for the end of a film to fade to black. And it doesn't only take place on his mouth. Dan's happiness borders his dimples, laugh lines curving around the corners of his lips, and trails all the way up to his deep brown eyes, from the way they swim and glisten with haughty playfulness to the way they crinkle at the ends. So in my defense, it's hard to ever really be mad at him, especially when his mouth turns up the way that it tends to do. Nevertheless, I still wasn't going to walk all the way to the kitchen.

"So we're playing it that way, are we?" I asked, testing him. He shrugged, as if challenging me to take the next move. So I did. In one fast motion, I reached my arm out and swiped his phone away from its position next to Dan's leg.

"Hey, Ph-Phil, I need that!" Dan complained in a whiny tone. I beamed back at him, retreating to the other side of the room. Holding the device in the air, I waved it around, teasing him.

"What, this?" I asked, mocking him.

"Yes, that. Give it here, Phil." Dan crossed over and tried to take it back, but to no avail.

"Too slow! You can do better than that, can't you?"

"Really? Realllly? You know I don't exercise! Please Phil, just give it back..." Dan's voice was half sarcastic, half desperate. I almost pitied him, but not quite. Laughing, I jumped onto the couch, waving the phone around some more. Dan chased me again, trying his best to follow my movements.

"Let's see..." I contemplated, hoping to get a rise out of him, "Ah, you're logged in on twitter. Who should we tweet? Pete Wentz? John Green? Maybe I could ask Nick Jonas if he's up for a night of watching anime and playing cards? That is, assuming he's in London at the moment."

"Oh, no. Nonononono. Give it back." Giddy with amusement, I continued my little game. Dan was jumping up at me, trying to knock me off balance. Still snickering, I ran away, and Dan followed, still hot in pursuit. I could tell he was frustrated, but he began to laugh as well. Soon enough he was chasing me around the house, and it was like we were little kids again, playing a petty game of keep-away.

We went on like that for a while. First we raced down the hallway, past the doors to the bathroom and game room. Then, ironically, we ran though the kitchen, circling past boxes of Dan's cereal left out on the counter space. I led him through the door of my room, both of us jumping up and over my blue and green checkered duvet, giggling and smiling as we passed my tetris clock and sped over my fluffy white rug. Then, finally, we made it to Dan's room, past his piano, and I collapsed on my back onto his bed in exhaustion. He did the same, and we lay there for a minute, our breaths heavy and jarred from the running.

"Okay Dan, you win," I breathed, tossing him his phone. He didn't pick it up, but instead turned his head to look at me, still grinning.

"I knew you'd come around," he said, satisfied with himself. I stared back at him, plainly seeing the 'Dan' in his cloudy chestnut eyes, wondering how a person could possibly be so damn pretty. His dark coffee-colored fringe was askew to one side of his face, the ends starting to curl up due the mild perspiration collecting on Dan's forehead. I wanted to reach out and pet his hobbit-hair, or open my mouth to compliment him, but I stayed silent. I was never the sort of person who always knew what to say, and gazing at my best friend like this often left me tongue-tied.

Slowly, Dan shifted, propping one arm on the bed so that he was lying over me. "Hey, Phil." he whispered, and I could feel his breath on my increasingly pinkening cheeks.

"Hi, Dan." I responded, my voice barely audible. I knew we should probably get up and film a video or a live show, since we haven't posted or filmed anything since the two days we've been back in London. I knew there were dirty dishes on the coffee table, still waiting to be washed and put away. I knew that millions of our fans were wanting to hear from us, anticipating the next tweet or notification. And then there were our families to call, no doubt curious to be informed of how the tour went. But I also knew that here was Dan. Here was home, here was comfort, and so long as he was lying next to me, everything else could wait just a little while longer. "Come here," I murmured, beckoning for him to come closer. He complied, nestling into a spot in my arms, burying his face in the base of my neck.

"Are we ever going to tell them, Dan? About us?" I asked, stroking a hand through his soft now-curly hair.

"I don't know, Phil. It would be hard. Especially with our fans. They're just so excitable," Dan sighed, as I continued to lightly play with his fringe. "I want to be honest, I really do. Sometimes I feel really guilty about keeping it from everyone, and I feel like the Phandom deserves to know," I nodded, lightly brushing the top of Dan's head with my chin. "But at the same time I want to be respected. I want to be known for my content, not for just being gay. It seems like no matter how much effort we put into a video or into our show, we still get comments like 'gay fags' or 'make out already'. I feel like if we were completely honest, nobody would ever take us serious anymore. Like with the Valentines Day video you made for me six years ago that Youtube accidentally leaked off of your second channel. The whole internet imploded in a rage of hellfire, and it took weeks until everything blew over and we managed to cover it all up. And even after all these years our 'fans' keep posting links to it and spreading it around. I hate pretending with you when there's other people around, but I don't want our lives to change. I can live with the way that things are, just as they are right now."

"It's okay Dan, I understand," I consoled, picking up his hand and giving it a light squeeze. He secured his fingers into the spaces in between mine, and started to softly stroke the edge of my hand with his thumb. "I would love to say that I trust our audience, but sadly that wouldn't really be the truth. There are always going to be fans that invade our privacy, no matter what we do. And if you're not yet ready to broadcast our relationship all over the internet, that's fine. We can wait, however long it takes. In the meantime, I'm here for you." I leaned in close to his face so my lips were just centimeters away from his nose. "I always have been here for you Dan, and I always will be. You can count on that."

"Okay," Dan spoke quietly, smiling up at me.

"Okay," I replied, finishing up the quote to one of our favorite books. With that, Dan sat up and gently tugged on my shirt, pulling me into him. Dan kissed me leisurely and tenderly, his touch sending warmth throughout my entire body. After a couple of minutes, I pulled away and rubbed my eyes, a yawn escaping from my mouth.

"Tired?" Dan inquired with a raspy tone. I nodded

"Me, too," He agreed. He pulled the plaid monochrome covers over our bodies, and searched for a song on his phone. Handing me an earbud, we settled in together, listening to the music on a quiet volume. The song changed to The Kids Aren't Alright by Fall Out Boy, and Dan faintly hummed along.

And in the end...I'd do it all again...I think you're my best friend...Don't you know that the kids aren't all-kids aren't alright...

The lyrics swam around in my mind as I slowly drifted off to sleep, my fondest memories of Dan and I floating in and out of my consciousness.


End file.
